Lessons in Gratitude Day 216

Tonight is one for simple gratitude. I am grateful for the muse that manages to show herself each day when I sit myself down to write. She is faithful, even when I am tired, in providing some spark–sometimes like tonight, ever so tiny–of inspiration for something to say, some point to make, some thought to share. It’s a small leap of faith that I take each night when I take up my metaphorical pen and pad (or in reality plop onto my bed with my computer on my lap) to write this blog. I step out into the air and await the appearance of the gust of wind that supports and keeps me aloft long enough to write and then eases my gently to the ground. For the past 215 days it has arrived. Lately I began contemplating taking up a morning writing practice, though I have not committed to it yet. In some ways it would provide a nice balance in my day–writing first thing in the morning and more often than not, last thing in the evening. Frequently writing my blog is one of the last things I do–that requires creative energy–before I go to sleep. Still that’s a lot of writing and a commitment to daily wrting that I’m not sure I’m as yet prepared to make. Nevertheless, I am grateful to the blog writing muse. I hope she stays with me or invites her friends when I begin working on the book and other writing projects I have coming up.

At some point I would also love to get back to doing some music–playing again every day for starters, then moving up to actually writing a new song. My musical muse has been somewhat absent–I think she fled, tired of being neglected or ignored for such a long time. My hope is that if I can make the time to play and sing consistently I can perhaps coax her back; however my energy and motivation for playing and singing is at the moment quite low. A number of other things have my immediate attention for the foreseeable future. My guitar and my songs are a bit like the characters in one of the novels I’ve been writing for many years; they allow themselves to be neglected for only so long before they start making noise and making their presence known in no uncertain terms. My songwriting muse is less insistent, but I hope to give her the encouragement she needs to return. I suppose this all sounds a bit mad, as the British would say–daft, crazy, etc. But I believe most creative writers understand what I’m talking about.

Creativity expresses itself in many forms–we’re all born with some measure of it and while it shows up for some as poetry, novels and songs, for others it takes the form of paintings and dance and other works of art. For still others it’s mathematical formulas, a recipe for red velvet cake, an idea for a new way to make wine, growing orchids, etc. Creativity is as limitless a capacity as any we have. I am grateful for its manifestations in my life and have deep appreciation for how it expresses itself, often differently, in others’ lives. In the same way we can see things to be grateful for everywhere we look, we can likewise see creativity and its fruits everywhere. I’ve heard people say things like, “I wish I were creative, but I’m simply not,” or “I don’t have a creative bone in my body.” They are mistaking creativity for a specific talent that they admire in someone that they don’t see in themselves.  But creativity, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder: you can see it everywhere (including in many places in your own life) if you know when, how, and where to look. And, as with many other capacities, it can be strengthened with practice.

I am grateful to my blogging muse for showing up yet again this evening and giving me things to think about and share with you. And of course, I am grateful to each and all of you who read this blog on an occasional, semi-regular, regular or rare basis. It’s an honor to have you along on the journey. May we all know happiness and the root of happiness. So be it!